Chapter 4: Like a Long Dream
###
The wooden sword swung again, and Lazara raised her own to protect herself.
The force of a single, crushing blow against her own sword was absorbed by the training weapon. It then went down the fake blade and into her hands, vibrating through them and dealing her thorough pain - like being lashed in the palms of her hands with a whip made out of soreness and agony.
She stepped back, wincing internally.
Matrim Redd looked at Lazara's sweating form, clad no longer in a citrine sundress but a suit of training gear and wielding a wooden sword, bruises spread on her cheeks already. She panted heavily, her legs quivering with a combination of adrenaline and numbed pain and tiredness.
"Alright, enough," he ordered, and she let loose, falling to her knees. Without waiting for her to rest after the potentially-traumatic first training session, he asked, "What magic can you do?"
"I have an affinity for light," she explained between pants. "But I only just started getting the hang of it." She looked up at him questioningly.
He nodded. "How bright?"
"Like a torch?" she said, estimating.
She'd found out that working with magic, especially one in her element, improved her vision. She could see in pitch darkness as well as she could in a spot shaded from sunlight, and sources of light no longer blinded her or forced her to close her eyes shut. Her personal balls didn't seem to emit much more than a torch.
He frowned. "Not enough to blind someone, then? How about earth magic?"
"Can't do that very well," she said.
"Shame," he said, sitting down beside her, even though he didn't look tired.
"One of my favorite moves is to spawn a clump of sandstone in my palm, crush it, apply water to turn it into mud, then use wind magic to propel it into the enemy's eyes." He paused, for a beat, then realized he wanted to add, "Set it on fire, if I really want to spite the fucker, too."
She snorted, and her snorts soon collapsed into a hacked crescendo of raspy laughter and cough-panting. As she regained breath, she asked, "Are you really that good with elemental magic?"
"What? Nah, that's all basic spellwork. Any amateur could do that," he explained, shaking his head, "The real magic is in using your resources well. Any half-brained idiot can throw a magical rock, but only a smart idiot will know to crush it, go for the eyes, then stab the other guy in the gut."
Lazara snorted again but didn't laugh.
If her parents ever bothered to actually check in on the training sessions with Matrim, he'd be probably be arrested for child abuse and assaulting a noble lady.
Select training priority (based on trainer):
[] Focus on training in trickster combat, feints, and abusing the opponent's weaknesses and using the environment to one's advantage.
[] Focus on using magic in conjunction with armaments to form clever combos, confuse, stun, daze, and harm the enemy.
[] Focus on the development of brawn and physical might, as well as physical enhancement magic.
[] Divide focus equally between all attributes of Matrim's regimen.
Trait Gained: Trickster.
###
Lazara didn't have many friends.
Algrannar had convoluted and ancient customs related to hospitality, where, if a fellow man of status requested stay at your house, he would receive the greatest quarters in the mansion; even the ones belonging to the Lord himself.
There were regulations, to this tradition, of course. It was rude to stay for more than three days uninvited and frowned upon to not exchange gifts or services upon arrival or departure. The guest couldn't infringe too much on the host's generosity, and wouldn't anger his family needlessly, in exchange for suspending all grievances for the duration of the stay.
Lightbrook's province was in the heartlands, on a major trade route to the capital, so many nobles had a tendency of passing through and using the mansion-castle as a luxurious hotel.
Her father, not being one to eschew tradition, submitted to these requests, and Lazara, in turn, got to meet the nobles' children and interact with them.
Still, she didn't have many friends.
She kept wondering if it was her fault, or if aristocrat kids were just snooty and uninterested in forming bonds.
Probably the latter, she thought, considering the boy in front of her was baring his teeth at her.
"Pyldret," chided the Dragonborn knight; Sir Dilican Redscale.
True to his name, the hunky dracon was covered in red spades from head to toe, which became a dark crimson in some places and a soft rosy in others. He was at least two meters tall, covered in plated armor with markings of the Dragonfather Bahamut.
The boy kept growling, and Lazara sensed a beast in his eyes.
She gazed at Dilican, realizing that a Dragonborn couldn't bear a child that looked this close to a human: the boy had white hair and pink eyes, almost like an albino, but while he had pale skin, it definitely wasn't pale
enough for an actual albino.
Adopted, for sure, and guessing from his appearance, some malformed genetics spawned him. Lazara had to consciously keep herself from sneering.
"I can't smell her," the boy stated aggressively, without care for ethics or the creepiness of the statement.
Lightbrook stepped in. She'd never seen her father defensive or angry, but she could see small filaments of light moving across his eyes. "Mind your tongue, boy! If you have something to say about my daughter, you shall say it to me, in my hall, and we'll see how I feel about it."
"I apologize!" Dilican stepped in, bowing his torso almost parallel to the ground. "He is young, Lord Lightbrook, and doesn't understand noble customs. Please, forgive him any misgivings."
"Hmph." Lightbrook turned his back and grabbed Lazara's arm, then nodded to the maids and gave Dilican one last look.
"I don't want him anywhere near my daughter, and we'll be fine. The only reason you're still allowed to stay here is my hospitality and worship of tradition. Do not overstay your welcome." At the end of his statement, Lightbrook glared at the insubordinate boy - apparently Pyldret - who glared back defiantly, not backing down in the slightest and actually sticking his chest out in triumphant, if hateful, pride.
###
Her lessons with Belladonna had been proceeding excellently, on top of everything else.
For one, Lazara learned to finally cast all four cardinal elements, if not averagely, then at least reliably. She could call upon any of them with a single-phrase incantation, or if she wanted to combine them or perform a larger spell, two or three-phrase incantation.
This was relatively average. However, her studies of the light were proceeding swimmingly.
At will, with nary a thought, Lazara could conjure up an acorn-sized speck. There was a powerful satisfaction in just being able to do that at will; to bend the base of the universe to her desire, even if in such a small and limited application.
With minimal focus, though, she could make something the size of a human head and burning as bright as a torch. Add incantations and prolonged concentration and she could go beyond that.
She'd already been learning to attach physicality and other traits to her light, as well as changing its color: Changing it from the default white was difficult, although when she did so, she could cycle between colors as easily as one might pick a flower from a plot of land. Forming entire rainbows at once, though, was even harder than changing from white to non-white.
The colors, she learned, had various connotations in the Great Astral Subconscious, something that Belladonna explained briefly as the 'web that creates the Astral Plane,' and meant that by cycling through to the right color and attaching another element to it, she could use her light as a vessel for a whole arsenal of effects. Red light would cling to fire elements, blue would cling to ice, water, or even wind, et cetera.
When first doing this, due to a slight... mistake... in calculation, a ruby-red ray set Belladonna's hair aflame, but the teacher didn't seem to mind... hopefully?
Another lesson she learned over the month was the difference between various 'physical magics.'
There was a difference between 'conjuration,' 'summoning,' 'creation,' 'illusion,' 'transmutation,' and 'artifice,' even if all belonged to a similar 'family' of spells, and Belladonna insisted on knowing the difference.
To explain it as concisely as possible:
Conjuration didn't
create or
bring but
formed magical energy into the shape and function of an object. It was temporary; magical energy imitating real energy and matter of various forms, but with potentially permanent consequences. For example, lots of 'combat summoning spells' were actually conjuration spells using templates of existing creatures. A conjured demon won't have any memories of meeting you if it dies and you conjure it again, because it never existed to begin with - it's just a strand of energy in the Weave, pretending very hard and convincingly to be a demon.
Summoning is different, in that it brings something to the user. Something real, marked, and pre-existing. A summoned demon is the real deal: straight from the actual Abyss, and will remember you if it meets you again.
Creation was exactly what it said on the tin, and apparently ten times as mana-exhaustive as conjuration. It was creation ex nihilo: formed from nothing except magical energy, and would stay in the world forever. It was easy to create small objects like a brick or a bit of water; in fact, easier than conjuring them more often than not. But creating large things with many, complex parts from separate substances was ludicrously difficult and mana-exhaustive even if your soul had a template for it.
Overall, conjuration was better for complex objects or objects that were meant to last for a short time, while creation was better for simple objects or ones meant to last a long time.
One could bend conjuration to last a long time, in exchange for a constant drain on mana reserves, and one could use creation to make something intricate but it'd have ludicrous pricing in energy.
Illusion was conjuration's cousin, twice removed. It formed magical energy into things, just like conjuration, but while they might have the shape of an object, they didn't have its function. An illusionary physical object wouldn't actually be a physical object and couldn't be touched, while a torch emitted no heat and the light was just part of the illusion.
Transmutation was changing something that already existed, be it conjured or created, and could operate similar to either conjuration or creation: low drain over time for impermanent change or permanent change in exchange for a single, large sum of energy. Physical enhancement was often just self-transmutation taken to the extreme, with a side-dish of evoking additional kinetic energy for a bit of oomph.
Artifice was the act of creating magical items: often, but not always, using the shavings of one's soul to imbue it with the property to generate mana independently. Belladonna assured her they would grow back.
And speaking of artifice, Lazara was interested in some of Belladonna's alchemical lenses, and the teacher showed a willingness to collaborate on something.
Lazara had ideas - she knew not from where - about systems for cycling lenses with efficient space usage, using mechanical components rather than magic, but what she wanted to achieve would be difficult because some component was missing, like the power source. Magic would always suffice, she supposed: just use telekinesis to slap the right lens into place.
But... what to do with all this?
Craft a personal magical item/foci?
[] Craft: Optic Staff. A mage's staff with a small, white, photonic crystal at the tip, and an array of lenses situated above it, which can be cycled through to select color. The photonic crystal can generate lasers independent of the user, and an attuned user can snap the lenses into place telepathically while preventing other mages from doing the same. A staff fitting for one who lords over light, originating from perfect, uniform white and diverging into any color as necessary.
[] Craft: Prism Staff. A mage's staff with a three-sided prism situated on top. The base of the prism generates light and the triangular structure refracts it from white into every color of the rainbow simultaneously, flying in random directions as the prism spins and shifts. For one who embodies light in every aspect simultaneously, and is only satisfied by divergence.
[] Craft: Enlightening Ocular. An innocuous monocle, which in reality analyzes every wavelength of light within it perfectly, can see the distortions of invisible opponents and isn't fooled by illusions, for the light is all-revealing and all-knowing. Suited for a gentle maiden who sees through all.
[] Craft: Dawn's Lantern. A lantern, small yet hardy, with a single receptacle within it that shines with white light but can be shifted to any given color as necessary using internal lenses. It does more than shine, however, as it can show paths and unveil hidden truths wherever it illuminates.
[] Write-in.
[] Craft nothing.
###
Snake-in-the-Reeds didn't even flinch when Lazara poked her on the back.
The woman, clad in a white dress with intricate embroidery and wearing disgustingly opulent, blueberry-tinted jewelry and white elbow-length gloves, simply turned and looked at her impassionately. The white snake was there, lurching on the shoulders and seemingly digesting a field mouse in its midsection.
"Was that an attempt at sneaking? You're pretty good!" Snake commented mockingly, in a shrill, feminine voice. "I thought you might be a maid until you stepped in around twenty feet of me."
"D'awh."
"Do not be sad," Snake replied. She smiled in a mocking, almost sadistic way and lifted Lazara's chin, her long cerulean fingernails - like talons - pressing into Lazara's skin. "The fact that a fat child like you can remain obtrusive at all is impressive on its own merits."
Lazara snorted. "You've noticed I've been putting off weight? I'm touched!" she scoffed, flecking the spymaster(mistress?)' hand away in one sweeping move, not caring for the little white gashes on her chin and neck.
Snake looked down at Lazara and turned her back to the little girl. "Your report was impressive. Walk with me," Snake ordered and Lazara complied as they fell into step.
The spy continued to talk, "In the first place, discovering a criminal's past isn't easy. You have it easier because you're a little girl; people trust you implicitly, and it's an excellent tool for so long as you haven't grown to resemble a true woman."- Snake's breasts jiggled at her mockingly, in a purposefully exaggerated movement. Lazara rolled her eyes -"Still, though, I believe you went too far when you related... ahem, the maids' nightly habits to me."
"If you're not ready for the truth, don't ask for it," Lazara answered with a carefully measured coldness.
"Hah!" Snake barked with laughter, the shrill voice of a noblewoman tearing into Lazara's eardrums. "That's rich, coming from someone who asked me to spy on a little boy her age. He is staying here only another day, you know? I highly doubt you'll have time to seduce him, especially given he tried to bite you, on your first meeting."
Lazara frowned. She
did ask Snake to spy on him, see what she could learn, but she didn't expect the damned spy to actually do it, especially for free. Maybe he... she... it, was returning the token of information?
"He didn't try to bite me," Lazara clarified, drawing an 'oh?' from Snake. "He just growled at me and complained he couldn't smell me."
Once again, Snake barked with amusement, which transitioned into a snooty 'ohohoho
~' laughter, with one hand on her mouth. "How spicy! Will you court him?"
"Don't be ridiculous!" Lazara fumed, fists tightening into white-knuckled hammers ready to pound the stupid spy in the gut.
Hit the liver, she remembered Matrim's lessons,
it's excruciatingly painful there.
Belatedly, Lazara came to realize she'd be more furious several months ago. Lately, she was growing insensitive to immature remarks. Maturing?
"I was jesting, m'lady. A woman of your bearings is far above sleeping with the only grandson of the Most Avaricious Scorcher of Realms," Snake said, almost literally dripping irony at that last statement.
Snake kept walking, while Lazara locked in spot and tried to regain her vague memories of Sylvester's lessons.
Memories of odd titles she'd recalled. It didn't fit any of the local heroes, no historical figures... it sounded mystical. A spirit?
Snake kept walking.
Spirits, spirits, spirits... think, think, think... She didn't remember anything from Belladonna's lessons about a spirit called that.
Snake kept walking, and rounded the corner just as the countdown in her head reached zero.
Wait, Lazara came to a realization.
If not a spirit, then...
Lazara screamed, causing birds outside the mansion to take to the sky in fright.
Snake kept walking and smirked in smug self-satisfaction.
The guards rushed when they heard the youngest Lightbrook loudly scream something about 'a grandkid' and 'the Great Ascendant Wyrm Dragon Pylmung, Great Monster Equal to the Heavens and Hells, Scorcher of Realms.'
Okay, she didn't actually scream that. But definitely something
about that.
Trait Gained: Stealthy.
###
Later that evening, during tea-time.
"Have you thought of marriage, yet?" Daevina asked, prompting Lazara to choke on her beverage heartily, clapping against her chest until a maid came to help her out.
"M-marriage, mother?" Lazara queried, failing to hide her shock. "Who would I be to marry?"
She grinned sheepishly, trying not to seem opposed to the idea. She couldn't help it, but the idea of having a husband drove fear into her heart for reasons she couldn't find.
"Oh!" Daevina exclaimed, suppressing joy by forcing her eyes shut and smiling brightly, "no one in particular, at all... though between you and me, I've heard the next scion of House Ygrasmundhil is a very handsome, dashing, and groovy young man, with a respectable record, and looking for a lady to call his bride just the moment he turns sixteen."
She opened her eyes in a meaningful expression. "And you, my beautiful daughter, are in an age where you are perfectly eligible for a great man whom the king practically drowned in riches to take your hand in marriage."
Lazara nodded, mimicking her mother's joyful expression.
"I see!" A carefully timed sip of the tea, drawn out for just the right stretch of time to insert a buffer into the conversation without breaking the flow. And then the sinker, "As always, mother, your anecdotes and tomfooleries bring abundant and vivid sunlight, painting my days with charm and laughter."
"Ohohoho!"
"Ehehehe!"
"..."
"..."
"I wasn't joking."
"I know."
"Please, consider it."
"I will."
The rest of the evening tea-time passed in relative silence and a hint of awkwardness.
As Lazara vacated the small parlor, she heard the furious whispering of maids discussing whether or not Lady Lazara would remain a spinster forever.
Lazara still hated the idea. No matter what they said, it just wasn't normal to marry someone several years older than you. She was too young for that kind of attachment and too innocent and impressionable to be left with a grown man who understood these things better; he could take advantage, or worse. Lazara shook the thoughts, shuddering, and proceeded upstairs.
###
Savior Panel
"Alas, even when looking the other way and incapacitated, your Adversary's actions cannot be ignored. You are beginning to awaken from a lengthy dream, and I welcome you to rise in the morning and face the threats and wonders of tomorrow, honored Savior."
The half-human grandson of Pylmung, a boy about twelve years of age called Pyldret - or so claims Snake-in-the-Reeds, the best spy you know - is currently staying in your mansion alongside an apparent escort in the form of a paladin of Bahamut, who also happens to be a nobleman, and will stay until after tomorrow, giving you two days. No one else except (presumably,) Pyldret and the paladin themselves, know about this, and the two of them would probably prefer to keep the secret this way.
Anything you want to do about that? [spy/talk/question/question his escort/inform father?] Keep in mind that Lord Lightbrook has strictly forbidden interaction between Lazara and Pyldret, and may punish one or both for breaking that.
Pylmung is an ascendant wyrm; essentially, a dragon that had so much treasure, fame, and prosperity that the world decided: "dude, get out of here, you're too powerful," so he ate everything he owned and passed onto become a semi-deity in the Astral Plane. Pylmung is distantly related to the Dragon Queen Tiamat, and by extension, so is Pyldret: assuming Sylvester's teachings are accurate and Snake's intel can be trusted - he may be fooling you, or playing you for goals unknown, to set some greater, overarching intrigue into motion.
Lazara is slowly, and mostly subconsciously, regaining memories of her past self. For now, this is limited to subconscious ideas, dreams, and vague inspirations dressed up as her own thoughts. The cycling lense system is from her past life, but she believes herself to have come up with it, even if she realizes it'd normally be ridiculous for her, as she's hardly a gnome or dwarven tinkerer of any sort.
Currently, Lazara is eleven, and this update takes place a few weeks after the previous one. Her combined traits are slowly shaping her in the direction of a Sun Wukong meets Surya, which is definitely interesting.
Whatever moves the Adversary is taking currently, if any at all, are unknown, but he did have eleven years for planning and preparations of his own, while you were mostly stuck in diapers. From here onward, the threat of legitimate attacks from him exists and you should most likely prepare to face him in whatever form it may be.
On top of that, "10" was the cap for the pre-planning stage of Lazara's development, in a manner of sorts. From here onward, in addition to normal vote options, you will be allowed "supplementary actions" that allow you to take greater initiative in planning, scheming, and whatever else you desire. You want to ask Belladonna about something very specific? Tell your father that you've had up to here with his shit and are moving out?
This chapter's vote options, for your convenience:
Select training priority (based on trainer):
[] Focus on training in trickster combat, feints, and abusing the opponent's weaknesses and using the environment to one's advantage.
[] Focus on using magic in conjunction with armaments to form clever combos, confuse, stun, daze, and harm the enemy.
[] Focus on the development of brawn and physical might, as well as physical enhancement magic.
[] Divide focus equally between all attributes of Matrim's regimen.
Craft a personal magical item/foci?
[] Craft: Optic Staff. A mage's staff with a small, white, photonic crystal at the tip, and an array of lenses situated above it, which can be cycled through to select color. The photonic crystal can generate lasers independent of the user, and an attuned user can snap the lenses into place telepathically while preventing other mages from doing the same. A staff fitting for one who lords over light, originating from perfect, uniform white and diverging into any color as necessary.
[] Craft: Prism Staff. A mage's staff with a three-sided prism situated on top. The base of the prism generates light and the triangular structure refracts it from white into every color of the rainbow simultaneously, flying in random directions as the prism spins and shifts. For one who embodies light in every aspect simultaneously, and is only satisfied by divergence.
[] Craft: Enlightening Ocular. An innocuous monocle, which in reality analyzes every wavelength of light within it perfectly, can see the distortions of invisible opponents and isn't fooled by illusions, for the light is all-revealing and all-knowing. Suited for a gentle maiden who sees through all.
[] Craft: Dawn's Lantern. A lantern, small yet hardy, with a single receptacle within it that shines with white light but can be shifted to any given color as necessary using internal lenses. It does more than shine, however, as it can show paths and unveil hidden truths wherever it illuminates.
[] Write-in.
[] Craft nothing.
Are there any Supplementary Actions you wish to take?
[] Write-in.
[] More of... [specific situation/character; next update will contain more related content in favor of other content. This isn't an interlude, merely less abbreviation and more detailed interactions]
[] System change... [write shorter or longer updates, change the rules, something else? Currently, aiming to write less than 4.5k words per update, but more than 3k]
The lantern was also tempting, but the staff synergizes well with the magic-focused combat style vote. I could probably be persuaded on that front, though.
